The Orgins of Majora

Chaos. Evil.

Whenever people see or hear my name, one of these two words come to mind.

Most people see me as evil. They think of me as a vicious monster, hungry for power. They think of that as my ultimate goal. These people think I will stop at nothing to gain influence and control over the world.

Numbskulls.

I am not hungry for power. If I was, I could have seized control of this world long ago. That doesn't necessarily make me non-evil, does it?

Well, truth be told, I am not evil... nor am I good.

The few who see me as chaos, however, are correct, for that is what I am. I don't have any goal, yet I keep striking fear into the hearts of these mortals without purpose. Maybe this is why I've been branded as "evil".

But I don't care.

I just want people to suffer. I want them to feel the way they made me feel.

"Always treat others the way you want to be treated."

That's the humans' Golden Rule, right?

Silly mortals.

My name is Majora, and this is my story.
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Long ago, when my raging spirit was not confined to this blasted mask, I lived in peace with the people. I resided in a quaint little cave a few miles away from their town in the hills.

Back then, the people were kind to me. They would bring me food and tell me stories. I loved it when they told me stories. It was like being transported to another world. My two favorite story-tellers were two teenage girls by the names of Anne and Emma.

They once read me a story about a snow-white dragon that loved in the mountains who turned into the moon when he died.

"Hey, you look just like him Majora!" Emma had said, pointing to a very detailed drawing of the Moon Dragon.

"Yeah, you do," said Anne.

I cocked my head over and looked at the picture.

The mystical being portrayed in it was captivating. The dragon was beautiful, with a long, arching, neck, huge bat-like wings, pearly scales, and eyes that looked to be made of emeralds. He had long, twisting, ivory horns erupting out of his head, with ivory teeth and claws.

Anne noticed me staring. She smiled at me.

"You really do look like him Majora. Except for your eyes. Your eyes are more like rubies," she said.

They were such nice girls. I loved them dearly, and I knew they loved me too.

One day, all that changed.

It was a warm summer's day. Emma and Anne were sitting on my paws, and they were taking turns reading me stories about the legendary Hero of Time. We were all enjoying ourselves, laughing and eating food that Emma had brang.

Suddenly, a soldier came up to us. He was clearly drunk. When he saw that Anne and Emma were sitting on my paws, his eyes bulged out of his head.

"Witches! You two are witches! You consort with this foul beast!" he yelled, his words slurring so that they were barely understandable.

He stumbled close to us, drawing out his sword. I sensed Emma and Anne growing afraid. I told them to hide in my cave, which was a few yards behind us while I dealt with this jerk. They nodded, and began to run towards the sanctuary.

The drunken soldier began yelling again.

"Witches! I'll kill you before you destroy our town! Abominations!" he stumbled dangerously closer.

What happened next scarred me forever.

Emma had made it back to the cave.

Anne had not.

She had made sure her younger sister got to safety. She turned around for a brief second to make sure that I was ok too, but then she fell.

Six seconds. Six seconds was all it took for Anne to die.

The soldier came close, and laughing, he slit Anne's throat with his sword.

Emma then rushed out, angered, only to receive the same fate.

The soldier then dragged their bodies to the nearby river and tossed them in. After that, he stumbled back to town, proclaiming himself a hero along the way.

I grieved the whole day. I tracked my friends' bodies in the river, then gave them a proper burial. It was the worst day of my life. After a couple hours of just sitting in front of their graves, praying to Din, Farore, and Nayru to bring them back, I went home, and cried myself to the nightmares that came with sleep.

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of smoke. The townspeople had set fire to the flora around my cave in an effort to kill me! I roared, trying to get them to go away.

"You horrible monster!" I heard someone yell.

"How dare you kill those girls!" came another.

"We won't forget this! We'll kill you to avenge their deaths!" a man yelled.

How dare I kill those girls? I didn't kill them! I looked to the back of the angry crowd, past the smoke, and I saw that same soldier there, with a smug look on his face.

Then it hit me.

He had told the town that I had murdered Anne and Emma.

Outraged, I roared, unleashing my fury, and stomped outside.

"Halt the attacks! This devilish beast is too strong for us!" a soldier off to the right yelled.

All the townsfolk then ran away from my hill.

Over the course of the next several months, the attacks continued. Eventually, the people but a bounty on my death. This caused humans from all over to come and try to end my life. They all failed.

My ivory teeth and claws were now stained red.

This continued for several years. One day, a man holding an ocarina came to me.
He didn't say anything, and he didn't have any weapons. He just had that odd little blue ocarina and a backpack. I laughed. This man was surely crazy.

He began to play the ocarina. The most beautiful music came out of it. I felt something within me, something that I couldn't explain. I rose to my feet, and began to dance.

To this day, I am sure that the ocarina must have been magical. I kept on dancing to that wonderful tune; I just couldn't stop. I stomped my feet in time with the beat, I swayed my neck with the melody.

I danced for eight days straight. On the ninth day, I collapsed from the exhaustion of all the dancing. Then, the ocarina man picked up a mask out of the backpack he had. It was a strange mask, heart shaped, with two yellow horns on top and along the sides, and huge eyes. It was a dark hue of purple with intricate designs on it. The eyes were scary looking; red and yellow.

As I stared at the mask, I felt something being taken away from me…. I couldn't tell what at first. Then I realized what was happening.

The Ocarina Man was stealing my essence, my spirit, and trapping it in the mask! I was outraged. How dare him! That was the day I vowed to create chaos when I escaped. I was trapped in that mask, and my spirit planned out what it was to do once it escaped.

It took seven years for me to get out of that cursed mask.

How?

I am a spirit. I need a host body in order to carry out my plans. So one day, when that Skullkid stole the mask my spirit was confined to from Ocarina Man, I was overjoyed.

He put on the mask. I immediately unleashed myself and took possession of his body and control over his mind. Using him, I began to unleash chaos on the world.

I was unstoppable. No one could defeat me.

Well, no one was able to defeat me…

Until HE came.